Sisters

If, as Robert Frost wrote, “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in,” then sisters are the “home” that takes you in. They are the ones who know ALL about you. They are the ones who NEVER viewed you through the rose-colored glasses of friends or the guilty, anxious eyes of parents. Sisters are the ones who covered for you, made up for your deficiencies, shared the miseries and joys of your childhood, told you hard truths that no one else dared, defended you and kept your secrets and yet ratted you out when necessary. Sisters may roll their eyes behind your back but woe to anyone else who dares to demean you, to bring you down.

When I think of “sisters,” my mind rambles over three sets of relationships: my mother’s with her sisters, me with mine, and my daughters with each other. The outstanding attribute that comes to mind for all is that, whatever similarities exist(ed) in appearance, background, experience, lifestyle, habits, hobbies or humor, each of these women is/was very different from her sisters.

My mother was the oldest daughter in a farm family of four girls and three boys. With only one brother older than herself, I can guess that by the time she married at 21, she was pretty sick of rocking the cradle and looking after the others. One sister eloped to live a hardscrabble life, one married and was eventually abandoned by her charming but chronically unfaithful husband, one married in her 30’s (late in life for the times), and then there was my mother who carved out a life with one man for 70 years.

Those women could populate a kitchen and make it hum with their homely tasks, sharp wit, love of food and recipes and quick laughter. Although totally unique in how they lived their lives, they moved around each other with the grace of a familiar dance. Later in pairs they might bemoan the fate of one sister and shake their heads over another, but soon they would be planning what they could do to help. Their sisterhood had nothing to do with what they had in common but a tolerance of their differences. They did not know everything about each other as adults, but what they shared growing up provided a solid foundation from which they were able to pick up the pieces for one another when necessary – and with respect.

In her very old age, as we played many games of rummy together, my mother told me that her summer bringing in the hay with one of her sisters was the happiest of her life because they laughed so much. I understood completely.

I have two sisters, 12 and eight years older. Because my mother had sole charge of their small farm during the week while my father was toiling at a factory job to earn a stable income, my sisters (who had no idea my mother was even pregnant until they woke to an aunt babysitting them while she went to the hospital!) were charged early with a lot of my care. It is the two of them who tell me stories of my earliest life. I was 10 when my oldest sister married and 15 when the other hit the altar. I knew none of their secrets (except what I could overhear when I lurked around the edges of their more exciting lives) and lived away from them all of my own adult life.

And yet here we are, each of us in the home stretch of our lives, still apart, and yet linked by years of holiday meals, letters, phone calls, visits, thoughtful gifts, memories of each other’s good and difficult times, romances, shopping trips, shared family worries, our children and, ultimately, the death of our parents a month apart. We have helped and disappointed each other, criticized and encouraged, envied and praised, understood and been at our wits’ end. To use a popular phraseology, my sisters were not always there for me nor I for them – but only because we did not always ask. The important thing is that, like Frost’s home, when I had to go there, they took me in.

My mother’s family is rife with girls – and only girls. She had three, the eloping sister had three, and the abandoned sister had two. I have three girls and my daughters have produced only girls. I know it’s true, of course, but I have trouble grasping that the male partner determines the sex of the child! Then I remind myself that my oldest sister has one son and my middle sister has two sons in addition to her three daughters.

Every mother I know longs for her children to be friends. I feel this is no more likely among daughters than it is among sons or a mix. In fact, I see so much against the possibility that I think it is amazing when it happens. Some of us would not choose to hang out with our sister(s) if life had not made us family. But life did and so we do and sometimes we even have fun. But what if we look at life with entirely different eyes from those of our sister(s)? What if their attitudes or choices or mannerisms or personality drive us up the wall or hurt us regularly?

Sisters can look like clones, have many of the same gifts, laugh at stuff only they find funny, click on many subjects, be incredibly generous with one another, share solid values and personal information – and yet after a couple of days together, they’re pretty much done, and the eye rolling begins. The only area of consistent agreement seems to be parents. (I knew we were good for something!) Does this mean they are not friends? I’m not sure, but I guess the answer would involve agreeing on a definition of friendship. What I think is that sisters who are friends are sisters with benefits.

What do you think?

Mary Martin

18 Responses

I consider myself lucky to have the wonderful sister I have. We have had our ups and downs, we have stopped talking for bits of time, we have yelled and sulked – but in the end we always know we have each others backs. Probably the hardest part of my moving to the Capital District was leaving my sister, and even though we talk daily on the phone there is nothing like seeing her in person!! I know not everyone is this lucky, to have a sister and a best friend rolled into one, and I count my blessings everyday.

As the youngest of three girls, I’ve often read the birthday cards designed for sisters and thought that they didn’t really apply to my relationship with my sisters. I was never as close to them as I was to good friends in school. Now that we are older, I see how those chummy cards and phrases apply…though we didn’t stay up all night giggling over secrets together, there is a certain language and understanding of our youth and experiences that only we share and that is exposed more and more over time.

As the oldest of 3 sisters I can say that we are all very different. There also are age differences of 7 and 10 years. We have been close, not so close but would come through for each other if needed. The relationship of sisters can be very complex. My best friend is like the big sister that I never had and we very rarely have any downs in our relationship. I do love my sisters and I love my best friend as a sister , actually I have dear friends that I also love. I am blessed to have all of them in my life.
It is always a pleasure to read your blog, MM :0)

GK: The pleasure of writing and hearing from readers is all mine! Yes “complex” is the right word for all sibling relationships, but especially those of sisters. I was amazed to realize how few of my closest friends even have sisters! I suspect that longing translates to friends who are LIKE sisters.

As complicated as sisterly love seems to be, I’m envious. I had a sister who was 24 years older than me ( and a brother a year younger that she was). She was more an aunt to me. She married and moved out when I was 2 1/2. I never had a sisterly relationship with her, for obvious reasons. As a child I would tell people I was an only child..ha! I was very confused!
I found out after my mother died that she had at least one abortion a decade or so before I came along. Fortunately for me, she thought she was going through menopause when she was pregnant with me, and didn’t actually ‘know’ until she was 6 months long. Whew. THAT piece of info did mess me up for quite a while. Can we say years of therapy?
I have been blessed with several awesome, loving, amazing girlfriends who I love like sisters. Sometimes we just have to make our own families…
(My sister and I never really had a close relationship when I became an adult for several reasons. In later years she suffered from mental illness, sadly. She’s been gone 12 years, and my brother died when I was 16, but I hadn’t seen him since I was 5). Oh, the dysfunction!
Hugs Mary!

Wow, Annie, you have your own complicated story of family life. That was a huge disparity in ages between you and your older siblings! The emotional and physical distance between you and your sister and brother – well, I can see why you felt like an only child. Regarding your escape from being aborted, that was a very delicate issue that you had to work out with yourself.

On the brighter side – yes, we who live away from relations DO have to make our own families, and sometimes we do it just because only “family” can describe some of those deep and special friendships. I trust you fill the gaps for each other. The Sisterhood is alive and well. Thanks for commenting, Annie.

My sister (my only sibling) is 16 years younger than I am. Although we don’t have the close, best friend style friendship we have a very special relationship. I have taken her to most of her “firsts”, first concert, first trip to the city, first trip to the west coast… She has always looked to me for advice about the things she would never tell our mother. And, since I am significantly older than her I have been able to help her as she graduated high school, navigated college and young adulthood. I am old enough to benefit from advanced experience, but not too old to be out of touch (like mom).
🙂

Dear justagirl (but, no, also a Big Sister!): How wonderful that you took on that role with your sister, that of mentor and counselor and trusted friend. Not all older sisters can or do. And not all younger sisters let them. So you are treasures to each other. Thanks for this.

I have five sisters (and three brothers) so you can imagine the fun we had. We are all very close and I attribute that to our parents. We didn’t have much growing up but we all help each other. Every one of us helps other people (and animals) in our own way.

Bodie: It’s my turn to be envious for I always longed to be part of a big raucous family. Your family closeness is indeed a tribute to your parents, what they gave and asked of you. Thanks for commenting.

My sister is nine years older than I am. She has been my Mom and my sister as our Mom died when I was ten. She guided my younger days and as we got older we developed into best friends. Many of her friends are jealous that we are able to spend so much time together. We always laugh and never run out of things to say to each other. We talk everyday and go out sometimes twice a week together. I love her dearly and wouldn’t be the woman I am today without her.

This is a lovely comment, kathy h. I hope she gets to read what you wrote in her honor. Out of the tragic early loss of your mother came this loving and satisfying relationship with your sister. Good for both of you!

I am the middle child of 6, with 2 older sisters and the others brothers. We all live right here in the area and we are all so very different from one another. It amazes me that 6 children can be raised in the same house with the same parents and yet turn out so very different.

I used to be very close to one sister when I was growing up (we shared a room together), but as time has moved on, my other sister and I are closer. We are the ones who tend to our parents. We are the ones who make all the plans. I think we all realize how lucky we are.

My sisters and I have a family tradition of spending an enitre day baking Christmas cookies. We have done this for so many years now and as the family has grown, we bring in our daughters, granddaughters, daughter-in-laws. It’s a great tradition.

I have no sisters and never did. I have dear, dear friends that I think of “like sisters”. Never having had a sister,however, I always feel a little trite saying someone is like my sister — how would I know. I’ve always been awed by sisters, but felt like I had to step back and watch them from a distacne as mysterious clubs I just couldn’t be in. I have a friend who doesn’t celebrate Christmas. He told me that when he was little he and his mom liked to go to 5th Ave in Manhattan and look into the windows decorated for the Christmas holiday, but they always stepped away when (apparent) Christians came to view the window; as if they had in inferior right to be there to begin with. Awww… That is a little like I always feel when I think about someone as a sister, or watch sisters — an imposter! Mary, your blog often gives me an insight into sometime very tender or gentle that I wish I knew more about but feel like an interloper asking. You’ve done it again with the sisters blog. Now I know a little more … and I’m still wistful for one!

Mary Jane, what a perfect analogy you give us as to how you say you always feel around sisters. In a small way, it is a little bit like I feel with women friends who have brothers! I think that women who grow up with brothers get some of their excess sensitivity rubbed off in the sibling scuffle and are all the better for it.

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